


Lost

by NesiyLemon



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-27
Updated: 2018-08-27
Packaged: 2019-07-03 10:59:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15817515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NesiyLemon/pseuds/NesiyLemon
Summary: One morning he was there, leaning against a tree outside her window. He does not remember who he is, what has happened to him or knows what is going on. He remembers her, he remembers she is safety. She thinks he is lost, but maybe she will be the one losing herself.





	1. Chapter 1

**I**

Ginny Weasley frowned. With a sigh, she turned on her back and covered her eyes with her forearm slowly dropping it to her side as she sat up.

It was early, too early attending the hours she had gone to bed the previous night, but she was awake either way. It was the pick of the Summer, the Sun liked to pop into existence at 4.30am and everyone had to pop out of sleep with it. Though, despite all the light in an unclouded sky, the person under the tree outside her garden appeared unmoved by any of it and kept, apparently, sleeping.

She rubbed her eyes, maybe she was seeing things. Maybe all that light had imprinted something of her dreams in the interior of her eyelids. He seemed kind of familiar, on the way he was leaning, she was not sure. He was completely passed out. With a head full of black hair, it wasn't any of her brothers and she knew Harry was… somewhere.

Weird.

She pulled a sweater on and left her bedroom, walking down the stairs to the main living area of the Burrow. The house was silent, it was only her parents and her that morning, maybe her parents were still asleep, or did not felt the need to go check the unconscious wizard sleeping under a tree by the border of the protective spells that still enclosed their property.

Bringing the fire back to life in the heart with a wave of her wand, she floated the kettle to its support over the new flames and let it boil as she stepped outside, stretching. She was not feeling like dealing with a drunk, but she couldn't let the poor creature outside like that. A good coffee would certainly bring some life into him and provide him with enough energy to get on his merry way.

Crossing the garden, ignoring the giggling gnomes in the bushes and the chickens that called her to feed them, she opened the small gate with its cracked old dark green paint, her feet becoming cold against the grass under them. The man was to the side of the house, or maybe not anymore, hopefully, and she walked there trying to decide how to wake him up. A call? A gentle nudge to his shoulder? A bucket of cold water?

She wouldn't dare, Ginny thought with a smile.

There he was, covered in his black robes, the collar pulled up to protect his neck and half of his face.

Ginny stopped in her tracks, her mouth opened in surprise and she stepped back, quickly hiding her lips behind her fingers to stop the scream that wanted to come out.

That was not a random wizard, randomly sleeping under her tree. That was fucking Lord Voldemort.

She held herself, kept her composure and did not fell round to the floor. She was not going to give him the pleasure of coming anywhere near a bow.

Lord Voldemort looked horrible. Not like he had come back the last time, not like that at all. For Ginny, this view was much more terrifying than she could ever make up on her own. It combined Voldemort with the source of her deepest nightmare. Half his face was skull white, his left eye was blood red. A massive disfiguration, that disappeared under his hair and stretched over his nose, leaving an indentation in its bridge and curved down to catch the corner of his lips. The rest was the Tom Riddle she met in her first year in Hogwarts. Older, much older, than he was back then.

How was it possible?

He was dead.

He was completely dead.

It had been years ago, but she still remembered it as if it was the night before. His body had hit the floor with the sound that all dead bodies make when they fall, and he had never moved again. He laid beside his father in Little Hangleton. She had been to his funeral, holding hands with Harry as the muggles lowered his body into the ground ignoring the identity of the men they were burying.

It was impossible for him to be sitting there, under that tree, inside those black robes.

He pulled the collar closer to his disfigured face, as if conscious of his looks, as if he was concerned about frightening her. He probably thought it was that, that she was horrified by his face, not by who he was.

That made no sense.

What was he doing here? Did he remember the house from before? Was he looking to finish Harry?

He looked annoyed, and Ginny started to feel sweat forming around her temples.

"Can you give me some water, please?"

"What?" Ginny almost screamed. She was not expecting to hear that. She was expecting some sort of curse.

His voice was harsh and there was a high pitch there that she didn't remember him having, but the rest was the same. There was a flatness, a lack of emotions and no tricks where there was no need for them. It was just like she remembered him.

This strange Lord Voldemort had asked for water, a human request. A basic need that was not denied to the worst of the worst. He did not expect to be denied that kindness, even with the way he looked. But Ginny had all the reasons to deny him water or whatever it was that he wanted or demanded or… or simply asked for in an educated and kind way.

He did not deserve anything, not even the air that was keeping him alive.

"Your name is Ginny, am I right? He asked again, pulling his collar more up against him. "From Hogwarts?" He paused, staring at her uncertain. "We studied together."

She couldn't do much but stare back, she was officially transitioning from scared out of her mind to deeply confused. She articulated those last words without a sound, feeling herself just fall more and more into the darkness of uncertainty that he was raising around her.

"Yeah..." Kind of… she did not say that part. If she was not dead by now, it was better to just go along and see where this all would take her. Death, in the hands of Lord Voldemort, was almost certain, but if she could understand what was going on and pass the message along to the Aurors or the Order, better for everyone. "It has been a while… Tom." She managed to say. His name like poison in her lips.

"Can I have that water, please Ginevra." That took her aback, it did not sound right.

"Sure… can you stand?" He nodded. "Let's go inside..." She turned, firming her hand in the fence for a moment. That fence was real, the rough cracked paint against her skin also felt real. She looked over her shoulder, to the man doing his best to keep his face covered. He might as well be real too.

She should not be doing this, it was a terrible idea. But what else could she do? There had to be a trick somewhere, but if there was, she was trusting the magic around her house to protect her. It would never allow him to cross the gate to her garden.

If there was something, not even he would be able to hide it.

She would be safe, out of his reach and there was nothing that he would be able to do about it.

**II**

Lord 'Tom' Voldemort was standing under the door frame to the kitchen as if he owned the entire cottage. Even despite the fact that he was still hiding his face away from her. It was weird, it was the weirdest thing she had ever seen, and she had seen some weird things in her life, cordiality of her twin brothers and you know, the war.

This kind of outmatched them.

What would Fred say? She wondered with a pang of something between fury and sadness. What was she doing? Inviting him this way, trusting him, buying into what seemed a half untold story of him losing his memory?

If it was even that. She was not sure.

She was going to have to call Harry and explain this. Explain way this wizard, that no good had brought into the world, was doing in her house. She tried to think of something, a reason, an idea, anything, but there was only this gut feeling that something was not right with him. That whatever had happened to him, had left him hurt and he was honestly confused and unaware of who she actually was and the wizards she would bring into his life in this frail state.

"Ginevra?" Her name being called brought her back to reality. The water she was pouring into a glass for him was overflowing and running down her fingers into the marble sink.

"Oh…" She gasped quietly, taking her a moment to react and turn the water off. "Yes. I am sorry." Drying the glass with the nearest towel she crossed the kitchen and stopped at arm's reach from him, extending the glass to him with a surprising firm hand. He raised his eyebrow, his only eyebrow, at her and turned away from her to drink.

"I should go." He said, putting the glass on the counter beside him.

He should go, no doubt on that, but she would not allow it.

She was going to regret it, she was already despising the idea, but it was what she should do. It was her duty. He was clearly confused and missing on something, who knew what could happen if he went? If one of his followers found him? She needed time to understand what was going on.

"Please stay…" She reached a hand to touch him, but could not exactly mutter the courage to do it. It was the last thing she wanted to do, but she did give a step closer. "I am sorry, it had been so long since I saw you, I was not expecting to find you here…"

Looking like this…

She hoped those were the concealed words he would finish her sentence with. Not something along the lines of him being alive.

"You can stay in the guest room. Rest for a bit? A couple of hours…" Ginny smiled and rose her palm to stop him when he opened his mouth to what was going to be a protest. "It is not going to be a bother at all. I am sure you had a good reason to come here and I do not want to let you down. You can rest here. It's not a problem." She assured him.

He stared at her for a moment and then let his eye roam the inside. The living room, with the couches and armchairs, opening into the kitchen with a table big enough for ten people. Things were a bit worn down but everything was clean and tidy.

"I think I have been here before…" He muttered, more to himself than her.

Ginny was staring at him with her best poker face, stirring up the few occlumency techniques she remembered Harry teaching her. He did not seem to notice.

Defences up, she evaluated his words. There was something truly wrong with him.

"You came to visit once…" She started. "Or twice…" He did not reply, he seemed to be interested in her bookshelf. "Did you sleep?"

He was not there.

Ginny licked her lips. "Tom?" She called him, feeling the name leave a sour taste in her mouth.

A red eye glowed at her over the collar of his coat.

"You are safe here, Tom." She said, waving to the room. "We have defences up, against Muggles and whoever tries to enter with bad intentions."

"Why would you need those spells?" He asked, reading through her words exactly into what those protective spells were. What kind of intentions they were intended to keep at bay.

"Do you remember how many brothers I have?" Ginny asked with a small smile. "It was easier for my parents to keep us safe. You never know who can be walking by and they wanted us to have free access to the gardens."

She did not felt he was buying it, but she guessed he was confused about many other things and this one was the least important. She did not dare guessing what those things could be, but she did wonder.

Ginny walked around him towards the stairs, ignoring the very loud voice of her conscience that was screaming at her from inside her head. She did not need any screaming voice for her to know that what she was doing was not only dangerous as it was incredibly stupid.

She was going to regret this.

Tom, or whatever he was, let go a deep sigh and followed her up the stairs. There was a guest room beside her bedroom, rarely used, which gave her some privacy and a bathroom just for her.

She could drop him higher in the house, in the empty floor where Charlie and Bill used to sleep, or even higher, in the attic with the family's vampire. It would not help, he needed rest, he needed to feel safe and she needed him to trust her. There could not be a bigger sign of trust then leaving him in a room next to hers, even if was just for a couple of hours.

She was moving out after all.

They were going to be all about trust from now on.

**III**

The house was quiet.

Ginny had made herself some tea and left out a couple more mugs out to her parents. They should be getting up soon. Her dad had to go to work and her mom was going to Diagonal Alley to buy some of the few herbs for potions she couldn't grow in her garden. It seemed sort of odd that their day, normal and average, was about to come to such a dramatic end. How was she going to tell her parents that Lord Voldemort was back? That not only was he back as he was resting in their own home?

She got up and stepped outside, breathing in the fresh air of the morning, the kitchen was starting to feel claustrophobic and she needed space. Ginny knew what she should do, she should be walking up the stairs into her parents' bedroom as quietly as possible and tell them what was going on. She should call Harry and let him know that the Dark Lord was back.

She should be calling him right now, telling him exactly what happened.

That was the right thing to do.

He would come with Aurors and they would take him away and get him fixed.

Get him exactly what he deserved and in the process… in the process, there would be some power abuse and maybe Voldemort would remember what was going on and kill them all. Kill everyone in the Aurors' Department, everyone on that floor… it would bring his followers and in an act of madness and chaos, the Ministry would fall right there and then.

Ginny gave a deep breath and sat on the stone step of the kitchen's door. She was being dramatic and irrational, that last part wouldn't probably happen but the other one, where he killed a lot of people because an Auror had unsolved problems, with all the reason to have them of course, but still, it could start something that they were not ready for.

What was she going to do?

She had just moved out.

Yesterday had been her last day in the Burrow. Her bedroom was bare and the only things left behind were the furniture she did not need. She bought everything new for her new place and she expected half of it to be already in her new home, waiting for her to unpack.

She had found a cottage in the small village of Luccombe, a bit far from everyone, but she didn't mind. It was not like she intended to spend a lot of time there. Most of her time was spent in Grimmauld Place with Harry.

If she took him there, she could hide him away for some time. She had already made clear that she wished to arrange her house by herself and didn't want help. People would be understandable about her desire of having it up to perfection before inviting anyone around.

Maybe by then, she would have a better idea of what to do with Voldemort. Or maybe by then he would have recovered his memory and killed her, which was probably the same thing her family and friends would do if they found out what she was about to do.

Voices from the inside of the house told her that her parents were coming down for breakfast. She hoped he didn't open the door to see what was going on.

Ginny walked back inside and started breakfast, serving the tea the moment her parents walked into the kitchen.

"You are up early!" Molly greeted her with a smile and walked to her to give her a kiss. "Thank you for getting the breakfast started." She said and pulled the apron from the chair.

Arthur walked close and gave her a hug. "What are we going to do now that you are leaving?" He asked moving away and looking at her with affection. "All our children are gone, Molly."

"Maybe we could cut some floors off now," Molly said with a raised eyebrow, "it would make cleaning a lot easier."

"Or we could have more children!" Arthur walked to his wife and gave her a kiss, as she told him that maybe it was time to get some pets amid laughs.

Ginny smiled at their exchange, she was going to miss it. The decision of taking him with her to Luccombe became more solid. She couldn't destroy this, not when there was a change of Voldemort never recovering his memory.

There was a small apothecary in her village that would be a perfect place for him to work. She was sure she could buy it for him if it came to that, if he never remembered who he was and whatever happened to him.

She stared at the fire, ignoring her parents chatting and the nagging voice in the back of her head telling her she was stupid and she was going to regret this.

With a last offer to help her settle in and a kiss, she was left alone.

It was time.

She took a moment to steady herself and decided what she was going to do.

First, she was going to have a shower, get dressed and pack the rest of her things, then she was going to knock on his door wishing that, somehow, she was going to find him dead and that way, solve all her problems.

She took her time, her mom was not coming back until almost lunch time and none of her brothers was thinking about calling by. Everyone was at work, everyone was busy. She had all the time she needed to get ready and gather her courage to face him again. She was starting to feel like she was in some sort of dream, one of those where we have deep conversations with people you never talked with but saw regularly.

She had dreamed a lot about Voldemort, not the boy in the Diary but the one that came back in her second year. She never exchanged a word with him, but they had shared many talks.

What happened that morning had felt exactly like one of those dreams.

She stopped by his door and listened. It was like he was not there and she wondered if she was not hallucinating the entire thing.

Ginny took her shower and got dressed in the bathroom where there was a lock on the door. Tinny and easy to break, its only intent to prevent people opening the door while someone was inside rather than grant safety against intruders. It didn't matter, she felt safer that way, even if it was silly.

She put her hair in a messy bun and eyeliner on her eyelids, making sure it was sharp at the edge, just like Harry liked to see on her.

He used to say, "Ginny, you look like you can pierce the other team rings with that." She would laugh and make fun of him for saying things like that, but she always used her eyeliner like that.

Today, it made her feel protected.

Harry would be horrified when he found out about any of it, but she didn't care. She was doing it for him.

For everyone.

IV

Holding tight to the strap of the backpack on her shoulder, to the point of her fingers becoming white. Ginny drew her breath and knocked on the guest room where he was.

No answer.

She knocked again.

Silence.

Maybe he was asleep.

She tried again and when he didn't answer, she decided to enter.

He had pulled the curtains closed and only a small line of light was coming into the bedroom, lighting the wardrobe across the bed. He was sitting on the side of the bed opposite the door, his back to her.

"Did something happen?" He asked in a coarse voice, looking over his shoulder with the good side of his face.

"Nothing happened," she walked in and stopped near the bed, "did you sleep anything?"

"Yes, I think so." He looked away and rubbed his face.

"You will have time to sleep more once we arrive at my place." Ginny forced a smile to make herself sound cheerful. "You happened to pop on my last day living here."

"You are moving." It was not a question.

"Have you ever heard about Luccombe?" She asked. When deciding to take him with her she had not thought about if he wanted to go with her or not, she just assumed he would come. Fear started to settle in. If he didn't come with her, she would be forced to call Harry on him and that, that, was the last thing she wanted to do.

"Not really." He replied after a moment.

"Well, then let's go," she turned and left the room and waited for him outside, "I bought a cottage there, with a big garden." She looked at him raise, awkwardly; he was hurt, maybe with some broken ribs.

She had not noticed that before.

He pulled the collar of his jacket up to hide his face, that he had not undressed as if he wanted to keep himself ready to go at any time, and walked to her.

"We need to go outside." She said turning around and leaving.

Ginny wanted to say something, make it less awkward, but she couldn't think of anything to say that would be appropriate. She wanted to ask him about his face, the broken ribs, about where he was before, but it didn't seem like the right time at all.

They went down the stairs, walked across the kitchen and stepped outside into the garden, crossing the small wooden gate, Ginny turned to him.

"Ok!" She exclaimed pulling the other strap of her bag over her shoulder and looked at him for a moment. "Right, just hold my hands and don't let go."

Tom seemed to want to touch her as much as she wanted to touch him, but she guessed that for him it was because his right hand was also disfigured. A vivid scar crossed the top of his hand and she could feel it against the palm. Looking closer, it was some sort of magical burn from a spell, but she was not sure.

"Ready?" She asked looking up at his cold eyes with what she hoped was a convincing smile.

"Yes."

With that, they were gone.


	2. Chapter 2

**I**

With a bit of effort, Ginny was able to assemble something that resembled a guest room.

It had not been easy, mostly because she had been really bad at writing what was inside each box and second, there was that gloomy figure leaning over the box with her books in the leaving room waiting for her to finish getting the room ready.

She called him when she was done, told him to call her if he needed something and to come out when he was ready. If he was lucky, the cottage would be more or less put together when he woke up.

Ginny expected, if it was someone else, for them to offer some help, to tell her that the couch would be enough and for her not to bother that much. But he didn't say any of those things or lift his wand to help her with anything.

Still verything was ready.

She didn't follow him into the room, but pointed into a pile of confortable clothes she had transfigured from her own things.

"You are safe here, ok?" She didn't wait for his answer and closed the door.

She put a silence spell on the kitchen and hit a couple of boxes with her wand, creating a small vortex of china and cluttery around her that hurried into their new homes in the cabinets and drawers of her kitchen.

The table was already there, four seats, much smaller than the one back in the Burrow, but this house, the life it promised, was just temporary. She had insisted in having her own space, she thought it was too soon to marry Harry. She was lucky he understood when she said 'no' to his proposal. When had that been? Four, five weeks ago? It seemed longer. She had only gotten a letter assuring her that he still loved her very much and was leaving for Moscow for the next couple of weeks for something related to work.

"I will call on you." That had been the last sentence of his letter, he had not called by and she had not wondered why.

She knew why, so why bother?

Ginny sat down, the smell of new wood going up her nose and she let a sigh go. Getting up she walked to the sink to wash her hands. She turned the cold water on and put her hands underneath. It was silly. She just wanted the warmth of Tom's skin gone from hers.

She could still feel the scar on her palm and she felt disgusted.

Whatever had given him that, he deserved it.

She felt a tear run down her face and then another, and then another. She closed the tap and let herself fall to the ground pressing her forehead against the cabinet's door.

How long had it been since he last touched her?

She would never forget that.

One arm around her shoulders, the other under her legs, his cold fingers pressing down on her naked knee as he carried her in his arms down the Chamber of Secrets.

Now, she was pretending to be his friend.

Afraid he would find her like this, she rose and cleaned her eyes and splashed water on her face. The safety of everyone was on top of the table and she would take care of it.

She was going to get her house in order and was going to sort everything out.

It was dinner time when she finally heard steps moving around the hallway. She put an extra plate on the table and some food on it. She had cooked chicken soup, she hoped it would help him regain some straight and she was not seeing herself being able to hold anything more then it.

She had not eaten all day.

He appeared in the kitchen fully dressed, hiding his face and sat down in a way that would keep him out of her direct sight.

She stared at him for a bit, there was something different.

"It is rude to stare, you know?" He said, sharply, but she ignored him and reached to the coat. She could see him getting tense but ignored it. She pulled the lapel away from him under a murderous stare from him.

"It's healed!" She exclaimed in surprise. It was true; the bridge of his nose was again whole and straight. Still scarred, but it was normal again.

He touched his nose, confused and sighed.

"What happened, Tom?" Ginny asked, resting her hand in his arm, comforting.

He opened his mouth as if he was going to start to speak and let a sigh out. "I don't know, Ginevra." He said with a slight shake of his head. "Can we hold this conversation to later? I am really tired."

"Sure…"

"Thank you."

They ate in silence and Ginny waited until he was done to take his plate.

"I am going back to rest." Tom stood up, his balance was not much better than before.

"You didn't say sleep."

"Pardon me?" He looked at her in what could be annoyance, which annoyed Ginny. She was just trying to help him.

"Did you sleep anything?" She asked, putting her hands on her hips.

_They were friends, right?_

"Not much." He turned around and gave a step away from her, but she grabbed him by the coat.

"Tom." She walked around him and rested her hands on his chest, looking straight into his surprised eyes. "This coat is staying here." With a fluid movement, she raised her hands to his shoulders and forced the coat off of him.

His shirt was marked with blood in some points and she looked in disgust to it.

"You are a mess… you should have a shower." She told him.

_They were really friends, right?_

_Right?_

"Please don't." Tom hold her hands when she started to unbutton his shirt.

"We need to take it off." She smirked and shacked his hands away. "Let's have a look." She pulled the shirt from inside his trousers and let him to undress the rest as she fetched the potions from the counter.

She had planned this. She wanted to see how hurt he was, how far down his scars went.

She wanted him to know that she was not afraid of what he looked or minded touching him.

She was doing her best, she would rather touch the body he had created then the one he was born into, but that wasn't an option, so she did her best.

**II**

She took a very long shower after Tom went to bed.

A very long, cold, shower.

It didn't help, when she stepped out, shaking, her lips in a pale shade of blue, she could still feel the warmth of his skin on hers and she despised it.

He hadn't mind much and went away promising to use the rest of the potions on that burnt that, according to him, continued down to his knees.

She had given him something for his ribs as well and gave him the one to sleep. He had refused in the beginning, but took it with him just to make her shut up.

Ginny was still trying to make sense of what she had seen when she turned back, with the potions in her hands, and saw his torso. The pale, white skin that marked his face continued down, almost translucid across his back, letting the blue veins underneath show. The scar, rude, red and vivid was the boundary that divided… that divided what seemed to be that odd body he had created when he returned and his old one. Tom's.

He was Tom Riddle, he didn't have an arm bigger than the other, or a limp from asymmetric legs. There was just something wrong with his skin, as if he was absorbing something else.

It made sense.

How else could she explain the fact that his nose was whole again? The scar was moving, taking the pale skin with it. She guessed he would look is old pristine self in some weeks.

Ginny wondered if was actually just something superficial, maybe the broken ribs were not the result of a fight but his body adjusting his internal organs to this new configuration.

It was probably dark magic. It had to be. She had never heard of anything like it.

Ginny put an old t-shirt on and laid on her bed. She was not sure if she was going to be able to sleep that night. She was tired, but the darkness and silence of the room, the unfamiliarity of the house, the sounds outside, were making her uncomfortable.

She turned on her bed for an hour and then she gave up. She got up and walked to the living room and opened the bottle of firewhisky that George had given her when he learned she bought the cottage.

"For the first creepy night! Hope your cottage is not haunted!" He had said with a smile and a kiss on top of her red head. She had pushed him away with a laugh and looked at the expensive bottle in her hand. A silly green bow around the neck. It was a reserve firewhisky, frothy years old.

George was right. She was going to need it. Her house was, indeed, haunted.

She poured a glass, no ice, and took it down. Then she filled another glass and took it with her to the couch along with the bottle.

Her living room opened into the garden, the doors, working like windows, let the moonlight in and she could see the leaves moving outside, an occasional gnome moving from bush to bush.

She woke up the next morning to the sound of someone cursing.

"Harry?" She called, slowly rose from the couch. Her head felt like it was going to explode and she was a bit nauseous.

There was a dark haired man in the kitchen, putting two mugs on the table, but he moved differently from Harry. It came back to her and she let herself fall back on the couch, pulling a pillow over her head to hide her mind from the world.

No, not Harry.

Tom.

Fucking Tom Riddle.

She heard him walk closer and put one of the mugs in front of her in the coffee table.

"How are you feeling, Tom?" She asked in a coarse, raspy hangovered voice. She didn't look at him, she was not ready.

"Slightly better than you, I suppose. You drank quite a lot last night." He said flatly.

He was simply stating a fact but she felt judged and sat down. Too fast. The world swung around for a bit but she managed to look at him angrily during all of that.

"What I drink or not is none of your business!" She snapped.

"I never said it was." He replied.

She noticed he was looking down at her and she followed his gaze. Her t-shirt was around her waist showing her underwear.

"Thank you for the coffee, hope the view is payment enough." She said with a hit of sarcasm as she pulled the t-shirt into place, even her shoulder had found a way out. She had to find her dressing gown before the sun went down again. "Are you ready to tell me what happened?"

Tom looked at her in silence. There was no trace of flush on him for being called out on looking into what he shouldn't.

"I am not sure." He finally said. "When was the last time we saw each other?"

Ginny bit her lip. What was she going to say to that? She had seen for the last time the day he died.

"I think we were sixteen or something, I don't remember well." She made it up.

"What happened?"

"We grew apart." Ginny pressed her lips in a thin line. That sounded wrong. As if they had something in the past that did not involve him trying to kill her. "That doesn't answer my question. What happened to you?" She insisted.

"I woke up in an alley, like this." He said drinking from his coffee. She couldn't help but notice that his eyes didn't blink at the same time, the eyelid over the red one was slower. She wondered if it would become blue like the other given enough time. "I don't remember much."

"You remember me." She cut in. It was her big question. Why, from all the people that he knew in his lifetime, he went to her.

"I remember my name, my age and my life before Hogwarts. I have intermittent memories for the following years. I don't remember you exactly, but something related to you." He was not looking at her, she could see this was really tormenting him more than he was showing.

"Maybe you remember what we grew apart from." She ventured.

"Maybe." He replied with e slight raise of his eyebrows. He had no idea.

"You are welcome to stay with me as long as you need."

"Thank you, Ginevra, I do appreciate it." He said, drinking from his mug.

"You can call me Ginny."

"I think I prefer Ginevra if that is okay…"

"It is…"

He had always preferred it. He only called her Ginny to mock her.

**III**

The week went by slowly.

It always went when you are carrying for someone who was sick.

The scar got over his red eye and she woke up to the sounds of things falling and to him bleeding out in her kitchen, all her potions scattered around him as he pressed himself against the wall in pain.

She had to fight him to make him drink the sleeping potion. Sitting on his bare stomach to press him down, forcing his free hand beside his head with a knee as she purred the potion between his lips.

He had drunk enough to sleep for the next couple of days and was up to a massive headache when he came back around. It was not the intention, but in his sleep he would not be in pain. She gave a deep breath, moving his hair away from his face. The scar had hit the corner of his eye and the sensitive organ was inflamed. White veins were spreading from the scar tissue, promising to turn the globe white again once it was done crossing to the other side.

She traced the scar down his cheek, his neck and into his chest, stopping in the brim of her t-shirt. She could feel it going on underneath her bare thigh. She would have to go to the apothecary the next morning - the one she thought would make a nice retirement place for Lord Voldemort – she needed a strong pain killer.

Sitting on top of him like that, with him unconscious and vulnerable underneath her hands, underneath her wand. She couldn't help but taste a bit of power. This was power. She could do whatever she wanted to the most powerful wizard of the century and he couldn't do anything about it.

It wouldn't even be weakness, to kill him like this. He had done worse to countless others.

In the next moment the feeling was gone, replaced by the awareness of his nakedness against her legs. She became aware of his stomach moving with breathing against her and felt disgusted.

In a jump, she was on her feet and away from him. With a wave of her wand he was floating and she pushed him across the house to his bedroom, laid him out in the bed, turned around and closed the door.

Ginny only returned the next morning, a feeling of guilt for the neglect she was unjustifiably pressing upon him. The old wizard in the apothecary shop had already some concoctions ready for emergencies and it helped her life tremendously. The vials where in a small wooden box and she was to given him one every six hours.

She conjured a bowl with water a towel, cleaned is sweaty face and forced the liquid of the first vial down.

The old wizard from the shop had tried to ask her what the problem was. And she, in the middle of the plants, the shelves full of small drawers towering over her in the dim light, refused to say anything.

"Just the pain killer, sir." She muttered. "Thank you."

She kept herself busy, clearing boxes away without magic, putting food in the pantry, moving cluttery around, downing a couple of firewhiskeys in between flattening boxes and taking them out.

She wondered if he had always been in pain before the scar got to his eye. She wondered what he wanted to do after he had recovered. She wondered when was her family coming around and break all of this away.

It had been only a week but it felt like more. It felt longer.

While he slept, oblivious the world around him, she started to have nightmares.

The first came on the first night he was out. Strong and powerful, powered by the alcohol in her bloodstream. She couldn't wake up and she was forced to go through all of it, all the descent into the Chamber of the Secrets, the landing on the bones and then him, suddenly beside her after a flash of light. He pulled her to him by her ankle and she grabbed on to his uniform as if he was there to help her.

"Tom.. how did I come here?" She said under her breath, too scared to look around her.

"I brought you here." He said. She could feel him moving, looking around. She wanted him to hug her, tell her that everything was going to be okay, but he didn't.

"I don't like it here, why did you bring me here?" Tom ignored and got up, pulling is uniform down, stretching it. He closed his eyes and gave a dip breath, smiled and looked down at her.

"It's a surprise." He picked her from the floor in his arms. "I think you are going to die when you see it." He chuckled at his own joke and started to the doors, muttering the password under his breath.

When Ginny woke up the next morning, a headache bigger than it should be, fuelled by the nightmare itself besides the alcohol, pushed her to the bathroom, making her throw up.

She didn't dare sleep that night, and when Tom woke on the next day, she met him with deep dark circles under her eyes and broken smile on her lips.

**IV**

He quickly made her at ease again. It was not like she had a choice. He was in deep pain, where the potions where barely able to help him feel calm. He couldn't take more sleeping potion without getting some sort of secondary effect and he actually told her he would take them, free welling this turn, if he could.

The scar had not reached the middle of his eye. She guessed they could count with another week like that until it started to calm down and the scar freed him.

She wanted to ask if he remembered anything else in the meantime, but she didn't dare. She felt that doing that could bring memories that she was not interested in him remembering.

He started to talk a lot after that, follow her around the house and make their meals.

It took her aback, she never expected him to do such thing. It was to mundane, to human. It didn't fit him. She excused it by the pain he was under. He must be his protection against it. She couldn't imagine what he was going through.

They would part at night, all the three of them. Tom to the guest room, and her with the firewhisky bottle to hers. It was the perfect arrangement.

She was sleeping a couple days later when she woke to the weight of a person sitting down beside her on the bed. She opened her eyes, slowly and looked at Tom.

"What happened?" She asked, startled, sitting up.

His back was straight and his shoulder tense. He must have woken up and just went into her room without even putting a shirt on.

"Can you have a look?" He asked, waved in direction of his face. There was a line of blood running down his cheek. It was dark, almost black and there was an odd smell to all of it.

They had decided to wrap his eye in some clean bandages embed in an ointment to keep the area clean. They changed it regularly and it seemed to help but maybe, the scar was not liking it that much.

Ginny moved out of the bed, only wearing her faithful t-shirt and got close to him. She started to unwrap the bandage, pulling the long strips of cotton away.

"Don't hold my leg…" She warned him when she felt his fingers brush the back of her leg.

"It's scratching a lot." He replied, but didn't move his hand, instead he hold her.

"I am being as fast as I can." She said slightly annoyed.

The strips were out, and she hold the square of bandage against his eye for a moment. "I am going to take it off."

Tom didn't reply, he waited for her to do it. Carefully, Ginny started to pull the cotton off and with it a crust peeled off with it. "Hmm… Tom…"

"Just take it off." He pleaded.

Ginny continued to peel and more black blood run out, not much, just the one that had been around the eye.

She drew in a sharp breath and they stared at each other. Tom's eye was fine, caked on that goo scar, but blue and clear, just like the other.

A crack on the door made her lift her eyes.

"Harry!" She screamed, shocked for seeing him there

She dropped the bandage and run to him, closing the door on her back as her common sense had the presence to dictate.

"Harry, wait!" She pleaded. She didn't want him to go, but she didn't want him here either. She needed to know what he had seen.

"Wait for what?" He asked, turning around abruptly. " _Wait for what_!?" He repeated the question in fury. "For you?" He hold her by the arm and pulled her close, making her squirm. "Wait for him to come whish me a good day?"

Ginny managed to free herself from his hold and gave several steps back.

"How long has this been going on? Hmm? How long? Was it because of him that you didn't want to marry me?" Ginny shook her head and open her mouth to reply. "After all we have been through…" he completed changed his tone, lowering it to disappointment and disbelief, "I never expected you to do this to me…" he stopped and closed his eyes, breathing in, "you know what? I don't even care."

"Harry…" Ginny muttered.

He was gone before he even stepped outside into the garden.


	3. Chapter 3

**I**

She was sitting outside in the sun feeling miserable about herself.

Part of her wanted to run after Harry, explain what was going on, that it was all a misunderstanding, but she couldn't. She would probably do the same to him if she had been the one asking him in marriage and he would say no, only to come back one day to see the love of her life standing in a t-shirt with someone half-naked sitting in front of them in their bed.

She took the firewhisky glass to her lips with a sigh.

She would probably do the same, but she wasn't aware of any Dark Lady around for Harry to be caught in bed with.

Sort of in bed with.

"I am kind of impressed that you can drink that many firewhisky without ice," Tom said somewhere behind her. She looked at him, balancing the glass on her knees and smirked.

"I am trying to grow hair on my chest, like a real man." She could see him frown and press his lips in a line of resignation while muttering a 'hmm'. He was wearing her dad's old classic Ray Ban's, his new eye didn't like the sun that much. "Do you want a glass?"

"Is there any left?"

"In the cabinet…"

He came back with a glass of ice and another bottle of the amber liquid and put it on her garden table.

"I see you are not a real man." She told him joking and he returned her a smile.

"I am happy with the amount of hair on my chest." He put his feet up, freezing for a second when the table seemed to sway to one side and then relaxed when the whole thing didn't crash under his legs. "Who was that guy before?"

"No one for you to worry about," Ginny replied, annoyed that he asked. It was bound to be, but she didn't want to discuss it with him.

"I am not worried, just curious." He replied, staring at the trees that surrounded her garden. When she didn't reply he focused on her. "You know you can tell me everything, right? Aren't we friends?"

Ginny stared at him in silence and she couldn't hold her tears. She cursed under her breath and left him looking surprised at her. She went into her room and closed the door behind her.

She hated that sentence.  _If they weren't friends?_  She thought. Those were the words he used to take out of her everything she didn't want to tell him.

"Can't you knock?" She asked turning around to face him when he entered. "Can you just leave me for a second?" It was not a question, she didn't want a reply. Tom ignored and walked to her. She was standing by the window, a tissue in her hand.

"I didn't want to upset you." He said. Another staple, she would have closed the diary in that moment, but he was well outside the diary, he was not going away.

He closed the distance between them and pulled her into an embrace.

"Tom…" She struggled, her body tense under his touch, and she tried to move away, tears in her eyes. "Just let me be…"

"Shh…" He muttered into her hair, not moving away, just pulling her even closer. "Who was him?" This turn he was not just asking, he was demanding, she knew that tone; she knew he would not give up.

"My fiancé to be…"

"I am really sorry, Ginevra." He told her, caressing her hair.

"I am here." He said, he moved away to see her face, he slid his thumb through her cheek, cleaning her tears.

"I think you never really left." He kissed her forehead and pulled her head against his shoulder again.

She cried on his arms until there were no more tears in her.

Ginny had not let him go to his room the night before. He had stayed with her, sleeping over the covers. It was not the first time, they had done it before when she was in Hogwarts. She would run shut the curtains of her bed and he would stay with her, help her with her homework, tell her one story or other about his time in the school.

It was something preserved in her mind has innocent, even now, being quite sure that he was only being able to materialise because she was so willing for him to be there. He was sucking her energy just to be able to give her a smile and she, naïve, had been more than happy to provide it to him.

He was sleeping turned to her. His handsome face relaxed in his sleep. Not even the horrendous scar was able to hide his looks. She wondered if people would have looked differently at him, at his views and goals, if he had managed to preserve his appearance.

Instead of stirring fear, he would have attracted love.

Sad but true. Beautiful people were always seen has righteous, always listen better too.

She touched the scar on his face, tracing it down his eye where it was now a faded brown and grey and continued down his cheek. He was taking painkillers regularly and that might explain his good mood and trustiness on her. She was not sure. She had never understood him quite well and she was sure it wasn't going to be now that she would.

"Are you feeling better?" He asked suddenly, making her jump and hide her hand under the covers.

"You were awake?" She asked feeling her face going red and pulled the covers higher to hide, at least, her cheeks.

"Your hand is really cold." He opened his eyes and stared at her. As if a switch had been turned on, his eyes warmed up and he smiled at her.

"I am sorry, I shouldn't have touched you that way." She turned and sat on the bed. He didn't say it was okay, or that he didn't mind. When she looked at him, Tom had moved onto is back and had closed his eyes. One elegant hand resting on his stomach. She threw her half of the covers over him and got up.

"Thanks." He said, and she left, closing the door behind her.

**II**

Another week went by and they had found their routine.

Tom had returned to his own room.

They would wake up, shower, when Ginny was ready she would knock on his door. "Come in." He would say, and she would enter, pick the bowl with the oily balsam and spread it on the scar that spliced his back into what was in front of her. It was closing on his right side, it had already left his shoulder and was now on his arm and the scar on his hand was well above his wrist.

Then, they would have breakfast, whatever she felt like cooking, with coffee, and in her case a little touch of firewhisky to spice up her brew. He didn't say anything and she was grateful for that.

On that particular day, Tom was rearranging her books.

He had already read half of her tinny collection and rearranged them every couple of days. She observed him from the couch, a smile on her lips as he muttered something under his breath. He had already complained about her small collection, and how she needed to buy this or that book because they were essential to any wizards. The first time, she told him that she didn't really like to read that much and was, actually, a professional Quidditch player, he had been genuinely shocked and had not been able to hide it.

She had not laughed, just appreciated in silence the cultural shock of a man raised in the 1940's, learning that a woman was playing Quidditch.

Ginny was starting to wonder about it, the cultural shock. He said he only remembered things up until he left school, more or less. He had certainly noticed that things were different, that she was wearing jeans and sleeping on t-shirts.

She didn't ask him about it. She knew she should but had not come out with a good way of asking without him raising any more questions.

There was a lot she wanted to ask.

She poured down another glass of the firewhisky, wondering if she had entered a point where she was just walking around the house speaking to herself and he had already left her days ago.

"Turn them with the spines against the back of the shelf." She told him, putting her feet on the coffee table. He looked at her as if she was mad and she just moved her finger in a loop to emphasise what she wanted him to do.

"Why?" He asked with disdain.

"Just because and they are my books. Do what I say will ya?" She told him with a smirk. "Do you want a drink?"

He rolled his eyes and went back to the books, ignoring her. Ginny got up and walked behind him. She pressed herself against him, putting the glass on the shelf beside her head. "Spine to the back." She said, careless, taking the book from his hand, turning it, and pushing it against the others, spine first.

Tom turned and she picked her drink and took a swing. "Yeah, I like it like that."

"You are drunk."

They stared at each other, Ginny lost her balance for a second and he put his hand on her waist to keep her steady.

She was the one getting on her tips to press her lips against his.

Tom pulled her to him with a sigh and she crossed her arms around his neck. The drink almost pouring out of the glass still in her hand. "Finally…" she heard him mutter against her mouth in one of those few moments they parted to breathe.

He was intense, the kiss was intense and she felt getting lost in his arms. He was kissing her like he had not kissed a woman in decades and she could taste his hunger.

When he took the glass from her hand, she dropped her head, pressing it against his chest.

"My family is coming tonight." She whispered.

"What?" Tom put the glass on the shelf behind him and put his arm around her again. "What do you mean?"

"It's my birthday today." She grabbed the glass he had put away and took a step away from him, turning away in one fluid movement and drank the rest of the firewisky. "Happy birthday to me!" She shouted and started to laugh maniacally. With hobble steps, she picked the bottle and poured another glass.

"Are you sure about the drink?" Ginny asked with a wild smile, as he hid his face in his hand.

**III**

Ron had sent her a very angry letter expressing how disgusted he was with what she had done some time ago. Which meant that he wasn't coming for her birthday. If Ron wasn't coming, then Hermione was not coming.

She would probably be fine.

She gave a small to Tom that was sitting on the table behind her that she hoped was reassuring, as she gulped her third glass of water.

There were zero chances of someone in her family recognizing him. She was pretty sure. She was 110% sure. 120% sure.

She couldn't ask him to hide without him asking why. It would also be quite rude of her. She couldn't have any of that.

Ginny drank another glass of water.

It was not the water that was going to make her sober up after the amount of alcohol she had. Why was she even trying to sober up? It was her birthday! She had Lord Voldemort sitting in her kitchen watching her have a meltdown and her family was coming over.

Her family.

And Fred's murderer was sitting in her kitchen.

Not his murdered murderer. That one was dead ages ago, but still, the main person to blame for all of it.

If it wasn't for the wizard in her kitchen, her brother would still be alive.

She turned around and grabbed a beer from the corner where they were floating, in their cold suspension, and cracked it open against the counter's stone.

"You seem nervous," Tom said, following her around with a frown.

She looked at him, cleaning her mouth with the palm of her hand.

"My house is not ready." She said.

"Your house is fine." He replied, she noticed, almost bored.

"My family thinks I am having an affair." She looked at him sideways. She had not meant that. Maybe they were right, she had kissed him, and she had not been able to stop thinking about it.

She was regretting it badly, cringing under the knowledge that he had wanted it as much as her.

"I am just a colleague from Hogwarts." His tone was innocent, a simple fact. It wasn't a lie, but it also wasn't the right kind of truth.

"I bet that excuse exists since Hogwarts was founded."

"If it is about today…" He started, getting up from the chair and walking to her.

She raised a hand and he stopped mid track. She closed her eyes, dropping her head, pain in her face. "Yes… no… no, Tom, it's not that…" She gave a breath in and turned her back to him, putting a hand on the table beside her to hold herself up. "Do you think that this will taste good if I add firewhisky to it?" She asked looking at the bottle.

Tom sat down on his chair. "I never tried it." He said. She turned to him, there, being non-judgemental of what she was doing, legs crossed, looking at her while biting his thumbnail. "Let me have a taste if you go with it."

He was annoying her, and she let her breath out in frustration.

What was she going to do with him?

She should tell her family what was going on. She should call Harry, she should call the Order… something… this was not right. She was just nursing him back to health and then what? What was he going to do once that scar was gone?

"Do you remember anything new?" She asked in a whim, the beer speaking for her. She hadn't asked him the question since they first spoke about what had happened to him.

Only she knew it had been hard to control herself.

"I wish…" He laid against his chair and looked away. "Are you asking because you want to know if I have anywhere to go?" He remitted.

_Great_. She thought.

"No, Tom. It's not that." She walked around the table and put her hands on his shoulders. "I am just worried about you. About what you are going to do."

He put his crossed leg down and hold her hand, pulling her around him and catching her out of the guard, he puller her into his lap.

"I am not going anywhere…" He said, his tone low. She guessed he wanted to sound reassuring but he came out as a warning. "At least for now."

"Did you had to sit me on you to tell me this?" She asked with a cold stare.

"It would not be same thing." He smiled deviously.

"Meh…" Ginny pushed away, and he pulled her down again, kissing her, when she opened her mouth to protest, to tell him to stop, he took the chance to explore her mouth. "Tom…" she sighed between kisses, pulling his shirt as his hand disappeared under her top into the small of her back, the scar in his forearm scratching her skin has he moved up, tentatively and painfully slowly.

He stopped when he started to feel the salt of tears in his mouth.

"I shouldn't…" She said, looking to some point besides his head.

"Then don't kiss me back." He pushed her up and away from him. "I am going to my room. Enjoy your party."

**IV**

Her house was full of people.

Ginny hadn't really noticed before how small the cottage was in relation to the Burrow, of course, it was smaller, but the difference was massive. She had to bring all the chairs from around the house and there were still people sitting in her couches and armchairs. Her luck was the living room being connected to the kitchen. None of those two divisions had enough space on their own to put everyone in.

Harry had not come.

Ron and Hermione were nowhere to be seen, but that was understandable.

They were very close. If you hurt one, all would feel the pain. She had been a bit annoyed by that organicity during school. There where only them and it was hard to push through and be part of the group. She understood, after all they went through, but she couldn't help but feel left out from time to time.

She was in the garden, speaking with Charlie. Her older brother had been the only person so far to ask her what had happened with her. If what Ron was saying was truth. Quietly she explained that no, it was nothing like that. Tom was just a colleague from Slytherin, he used to hang around the library a lot and was mostly sick and away. They had been more or less friends through the time and she had invited him to stay with her for a bit and recover from his accident.

She could see that Charlie was not quite believing her story, but was not questioning it, which she was thankful for. Her family would come and go from their little corner, and when she returned inside, to her utmost horror, Tom was speaking with George. Bill was in the group as well, both laughing at something he was saying.

She walked to them as calmly as she managed, one part boiling of rage, the other in deep fear of what could happen.

"We found your friend." George said with a wink, as Tom simply shrugged and gave her a small smile.

Her mother quickly took her away, maybe she didn't want her near Tom, it might make her remember what she had done to Harry, her unspoken son. She put a plate of food in her hand and took the glass of wine away, passing it to her dad.

There was a glimpse of concern in his eyes as well.

If she payed enough attention to every person in her home, she would see it in their eyes too. Hiding away behind their smiles, their laughs, making them swollen their food a little bit harder than it should.

And having Tom there, among them, the people she loved the most, speaking with George, still half-broken to an extent they were not sure he was going to recover from.

The Dark Lord, looking like he was 25 years old, with memory or lack of it, was still the fucking Dark Lord and he was in her living room, speaking with her family, making them laugh, making excuses on why his face was scarred and half white. No one had a clue, no one knew but her and it was eating her up.

The feeling of regret was just eating on her and she wanted to cry, scream, make the feeling go away somehow. She took a bit of the food to her mouth. Some sort of pasta that tasted bland in her tongue. She forced it down, looking around for the wine to help her put it down her tight throat.

She looked at the time. 7pm. Only 7pm.

Charlie came back to her.

"Are you sure you are ok?" He asked, concerned. "You are kind of pale."

"Yes, why wouldn't I be?" She replied with a smile and feed him a couple of bites from her plate. "It's my birthday." Charlie kissed her temple and gave a broad smile. There was nothing much he could do but that.

Time passed slowly, and she kept herself away from Tom. She would give him furtive stares from time to time and when he caught her looking, she would turn, trembling. She was ignoring him, they both knew that, but what would they speak about if they were together?

Ginny didn't want her family to remember her standing next to him. She kept her distance.

He would have questions, she was sure of it. She had no idea of what to tell him once everyone was away. Maybe she would make something up, after all, what was going on in her home, as she realized, was completely obscuring what had happen with Harry.

She had been drinking, it started to keep herself calm, then it went into keeping what had happened with Harry at bay.

Numb.

That was how she was. She was numb.

Not that night. There was to many people around to not make her realize how deep she had gotten in her hole.

Not that night at all.

Ginny helped herself to another beer and seek Charlie again. He was a safe port, he hid is concern well.


	4. Chapter 4

**I**

She was in the kitchen, having something to eat when the doorbell rang.

Tom look at her and she looked at him with her eyebrows raised. She didn't really know anyone in her village and friends usually arrived through the garden.

Ginny crossed the living room into the hallway and opened the door. It was Hermione. Ginny braced herself for what was about to come.

"Come in." Ginny invited her friend in and stepped back until she was sitting on the small stool by the door where she stored her shoes underneath. Hermione closed the door behind her and looked around, noticing the closed doors down the corridor and the innocent waiting of Ginny in stool by the door, instead of inviting her to the living room and offering her some tea.

"How have you been, Ginny?" Hermione asked, care on her tone, a bit of pleading for her to just tell her what was going on and skip the formalities.

"I am well, and you? As the Ministry keeping you busy as usual?" It was Wednesday, middle of the afternoon, she should be at work, not in her home.

"Quite… you know how it is." Hermione looked at her, waiting. "I am sorry I didn't come to your birthday."

"Not a problem!" Ginny jumped into it. "I understand you are busy, plenty of birthdays waiting for me in the future!" She said cheerfully, her shoulders tensing as the clock on the wall tic tac-ed the minutes away and the mood in her little hallway became grime.

Any moment now.

"Well, I was not able to come…" Hermione hesitated and looked at her in expectation. She was such a good friend, but there it was, "I had to stay with Ron, he is still furious with what you did to Harry." There it was that annoying organicity they shared.

Harry had run away angry at her, not even giving her a chance to explain what was happening, who the man in her bedroom was, nothing. That had turned out for the better since she was trying to hide away Tom Riddle. She was grateful he had not stayed. All her badly planned idea would have run down the pipe.

He had certainly told Ron and Hermione, as it was expected, and Ron and spread it around her family. She could understand Harry's behaviour. But not her brother's and Hermione.

None of them had bothered to come see her. Ask her directly what was happening.

That hurt.

They just assumed the worse.

Harry was not the much aware person. Ron was fast to reach conclusions. Hermione was supposed to be smart.

Ginny felt like having a drink.

When everyone left, she didn't stay behind to speak to Tom and headed directly to her bedroom. She didn't want to speak with him. On the next afternoon, when she got up and was eating the leftovers of the previous night, she was alone. He had not come out of his room.

As the day rolled and he had still not come out, she walked to his door, pressing her ear to it. She could hear him walking around. She guessed he was going to come out and went back to the kitchen and kept the food on the table for when he came out.

He was dressed, not her transfigured clothes but the ones he originally had when she found him.

"Did you go out?" Ginny asked, frowning, looking him up and down.

"Hmm?" He looked down at himself as well. "Yes, I went to meet the apothecary that saved my sanity during this past weeks, have some breakfast in the pub."

Ginny went pale, various degrees pale.

"Are you ok?" He asked, walking to her. "You are not looking well…" He said, concerned, maybe fearful that she was going to blackout.

"Yes…" she said, "Have you eaten? There is still plenty of food from last night." Ginny got up from her chair and turned around, reaching for the bottle in the counter, her hand trembling as she poured the drink into a glass.

Why was she heading into a panic attack? It was only natural that he would go out. He was not her prisoner. He could go wherever he wanted.

He could leave whenever he wanted.

"Yes, I think I will have something." He sat down, folding his sleeved and pulling some trays to him, serving himself. "I already went through some of them earlier too."

"I am happy you liked it," Ginny replied, still with her back to him, looking at him through the faint reflexes in the window.

"Who made all the food? I have an idea of you telling me that your mom was a great cook," he said, starting to eat.

"Probably, I didn't ask." Ginny poured another glass of wine. It was warm and unpleasant. "Fleur doesn't cook very well."

"She is George's wife, right?" He continued, she had to give him some credit, he was taking very well all this drinking thing she had going on at the moment. "I found George incredibly funny. Very positive guy. He spoke about his twin Fred a couple of times. Tell me you didn't saw me speaking with Fred while I thought I was speaking with George."

"Fred died some time ago." Ginny felt a shiver go down her back. She reached up and opened the window, it was starting to be hard to breathe. Why was he speaking about her family? It was just making her feel bad.

"I am sorry Ginevra, I didn't understand that." Tom seemed genuinely sympathetic. "He spoke of Fred as if he was still around."

"He didn't take it very well." She replied. She could no longer see him in the window, but she could hear the sound of his knife cutting away on whatever he was eating. He was so casual about it all.

Why shouldn't he? He didn't remember doing anything wrong.

"Well, but your other brother, Bill, was also really good company. I was very impressed with Charlie." Tom continued. "I can't believe your brother works with Dragons, I don't think I would be able to do that."

"He likes things rough," Ginny said absently. Every word Tom said about her family was just hammering down in her guilty conscience. She just felt more and more horrible.

Tom laughed at her comment, "I suppose." he put more food on his plate and pulled a bottle of wine to him, taking the cork and smelled the wine. "I think it was Percy that brought this bottle." He poured a glass for himself. "That's the name of the one that was late, correct?"

"Yeah…" Ginny run out of wine in her bottle. She wanted to disappear. Stop feeling that way. The weight on her chest, the guilt, it was too much for her to bare.

"I think that he is the one that likes it rough. Director in the Ministry at his age?" She could hear him continue to eat, an occasional pause to drink. "He works with…" he paused, "Ron's girlfriend… Hermione Granger, isn't it?"

"Yes…"

"I think I sort of remember all these names from before." He continued, happy for being improving.

"That's right." Ginny pulled the next bottle. "They weren't here."

"I never heard about the Grangers. Is she American?" He asked.

"Her parents are Muggles." What kind of question was that?

A pause.

"I see." Another pause. Some disappointment in it. "Percy told great things about her performance in Hogwarts, he sounded kind of envious."

"Best student in 50 years some said…" Ginny couldn't catch herself. She was starting to feel the effects of all that wine. It was loosening her tongue. She shouldn't have drunk.

"Oh really?" Tom said, he thought it was interesting. "Who was the other person?"

Ginny turned around and smiled, drinking her glass in one go. "I don't remember! Trust me, she is just really smart." She said without hesitating, she could do this.

"Not questioning it." He poured Percy's wine into her glass and smiled at her. "Anyway, what does your father do? You will have to forgive me as I have forgotten." He continued, unknowingly pressing her buttons.

"Ginny?" Hermione pulled her back to the present, to the little bench she was sitting, right back to her friend that was expecting something of her.

"What were you saying?" Ginny asked, brushing her hair away from her face.

"I asked why did you do that to Harry?" Hermione repeated with a sigh. She seemed tired. Ginny knew that sometimes dealing with Ron wasn't easy.

"I have not done anything to Harry," Ginny replied, holding back an annoyed grunt and ignoring those two kisses that meant nothing and were outside what she had with Harry. It was him that took his time to come to her. His fault. "My friend is hurt, some sort of curse. He has a scar that caught his eyes. That morning he was complaining about something being wrong and asked me to look." Ginny shrugged. "He woke up that way and woke me up to have a look."

"Oh…"

"I don't sleep in the living room, you know," Ginny explained rolling her eyes, "that's why Harry saw him in my bedroom."

"Is he still around?" Hermione asked, crossing her legs to make herself stop stomping her foot on the floor.

"Yes, he is still recovering." She was getting frustrated, not because of Hermione's interest in wanting to know Tom, but because she couldn't recall if she had ever crossed him before. She knew Hermione and Ron had both interacted with one of Tom's Horcruxes, but she couldn't remember. It had been so long ago.

One door down the corridor opened and Tom walked out heading to his room, putting a full stop on her dilemma.

He looked to the side and smiled at them, but before he had time to touch his door, Hermione was on her feet, her wand pointed at him.

"HERMIONE, NO!" Ginny screamed and tried to throw her against the wall, somehow disarm her. Hermione moved to the side and it was Ginny who hit the wall, hard and badly. "Argh!" She got back on her feet but by then Tom had disappeared somewhere and Hermione's face was on her.

"That was bloody Lord Voldemort!" Hermione almost screamed at her. Ginny bedroom door opened slowly, catching both their attentions. "What have you done Ginny?" Hermione muttered in horror as Tom walked to them inside the room, more intimidating then he should. But a dark room, even in darkness to ease someone' sleep and curtains happy to be open and let the sunshine in.

Thinking she was protecting Ginny of something, Hermione stepped in his direction, a spell ready on her lips, but once she moved her wand, the front door behind them flew open, startling both witches.

"Expelliarmus!" He said in a strong commanding voice, and with a fluid movement from Ginny's wand, Hermione flew outside the door and her wand hit one of the frames in the hallway's wall, making it fall to the ground, spreading glass over her carpet.

He called the fallen wand to him as he walked to the door, glass cracking under his boots and he pulled Ginny on the way, making her fall against him. He held her balance with an arm around her back, his fingers pressing hard on her flesh.

Tom threw Hermione's wand at the young witch feet. She raised, kneeling to reach her only way to defend herself.

"Go away." Tom didn't shout, didn't raise his voice and the disdain was enough for Ginny to fear what she was going to see if she looked up. Hermione looked at him with her mouth hanging open and Tom closed the door in her face.

Ginny expected Hermione to bang on the door, but she didn't do it.

Tom let her go with a sigh and turned to face her.

"What was that all about?" He asked, unimpressed.

"I need a drink," Ginny replied in a trembling voice, tears starting to roll down her cheeks, and he rolled his eyes.

"Then let's have a drink." He gestured to the door, and she went into the living room and he pointed to the couch without a word. "I am not angry, you know?" He told her from the kitchen, taking two glasses from the cabinet beside the window. He sat down in the armchair across from her, glasses between his finger, a bottle of firewhisky under his arm and her wand in his other hand.

Tom put the glasses on the table between them, some ice floated across and landed quietly in them and he put the bottle beside them.

"I am not going to lie to you, I am aware that I am not where my head tells me I should be…" He moved his open hand beside his head as he poured the amber liquid into the glasses. "I am aware you know me by Lord Voldemort besides Tom." He looked at her and took his glass to his lips. "What did I do?"

"Can you give me my wand?" She asked in a small voice, she had barely noticed what he was saying, she didn't care, she wanted her wand back.

"Here." He turned it around between his fingers and pointed the bottom at her.

"Thank you." She put it beside her on the couch and took her drink. Tom filled her glass again and she drunk it in one go, just for him to fill it again.

Tom rose to his feet, his glass in his hand as he ran his fingers through his hair. He stood by the glass doors to the garden and sighed. He didn't move, and she poured another drink, feeling herself warming up as the alcohol hit her bloodstream, her heart pumping it to every corner of her body, of her brain.

She drew air in with a long sigh, there was something there that she had not noticed before.

"Ginevra…" He turned halfway around, she could see that the scar was practically gone from his face, more a mark than anything of what it had been before. The light that was entering her living room, hitting him directly, making his blue eyes shine in a merciless way. She forgot in what dangerous situation she was in and just admired him.

He raised his glass and drunk, tilted his head back exposing his neck, exposing the muscles of his throat, and she felt like getting up and go there, just to touch him.

Tom finished his drink and sat down beside her, he pulled the bottle to him and poured another drink over the ice in his glass. He put his hand on the cushion between them and leaned to her. "You have to tell me what I did, for Hermione to act the way she did." He told her, demanding, but Ginny didn't care, she bit her lip and closed the distance between them, her chest exploding with a mix of emotions she didn't understand. "Ginevra…" He muttered against her lips, her name implying a question, he wondered why she was kissing him now, from all moments, but she didn't care. She pushed past through his lips, tasting him, getting a groan out of him when she bit his lip calling him for more.

He put his glass on the table and reached to her, pulling her to him at the same time he moved to lay her under him.

She wondered what she was doing.  _Was she trying to shut him up?_  She thought as a shiver run up her back elicited by the way he was kissing her neck under her jaw. His weight on her just felt right, the hand sliding up under the skirt of her dress, felt even better.

"Tom…" He was driving her mad. She crossed her legs around his waist and pushed his shirt up, resigning to unbutton it when it didn't come out. They kissed while she did it, she could feel his raspy breath against her lips.

His shirt came out and they parted for her to push it down his arms. He looked at her, resting on his elbow for a moment, his other hand lingering for a moment in her thigh. He lowered his head and kissed her again.

Ginny felt around the coffee table until she found her glass as he bitted and kissed her neck, he uncrossed her legs from him and reached in between, pulling on his belt and then opening his trousers.

She finished her drink and drop the glass to the floor, put her arms around his neck and kissed him deeply.

**II**

Ginny woke and rolled on her side, facing the familiar window in her bedroom in the Burrow.

Her cottage in Luccombe was gone months ago and she was back home.

She was not able to feel comfortable in that place anymore, she never had. She never had the time because Tom was there since the beginning. There were too many bad memories.

But that was not what she had told her family, to them she had said "Thank you."

Hermione had returned that faithful day, eventually.

Ginny remember expecting her friend to be jumping her garden's bushes to break into her house through the kitchen and save her, but she did not. Hermione was smart, she had gone directly to the Ministry, dragged Harry into his chief's office and told them exactly what they never expected to hear.

That Lord Voldemort was back, that he was with Ginny, that she was afraid of Ginny being under a curse because he tried to protect him, and that yes, she was not confusing anything, that the guy Harry thought was sleeping with his girlfriend, was indeed Lord Voldemort.

A small army of Aurors surrounded Ginny's cottage, but by then Tom was long gone and everything left behind was an empty bottle of firewhisky and two empty glasses in the coffee table and Ginny passed away in the couch.

She had been taken to the Ministry and interrogated, first by someone she didn't know, then by Harry himself.

Giny was, fortunately, able to count the most horrific experiences she had gone through in her short life in one hand. The first was her story with the Diary, the second was her brother's death and this was the third and last one.

She never thought she could actually be this good at lying.

She had a friend called Tom, not Tom Riddle, she didn't remember his last name very well, she never asked because it was not important. She had some Quidditch teammates that she didn't know their surname either and she saw them almost every day for months.

She remembered what Tom Riddle looked like very well and knew even better who he was. Between a lot of sarcasm and informing that no, she was not stupid and that yes, of course, she would call for help if she ever stumbled on Tom Riddle again, Ginny was able to refute Hermione's words and have them let her go.

It was her word against Hermione's. They were both respectful witches and one was not better than the other.

She kept her story, she kept her lies, even when the Aurors told her that the glass she had used that day had traces of Amortentia in it and she was sure they would find it in more of her glasses. It explained a lot.

That didn't stop the Aurors from spreading rumours around about the story, that maybe Lord Voldemort was back. That scared people for some weeks. Rumours that Voldemort never died, that there was a Horcrux somewhere, where at the level of urban myths. No one believed it. From time to time a more aggressive story would pop, but it usually ended with a Death Eater in Azkaban.

It was the first time such thing had come from a source in the Ministry.

Hermione no longer spoke to her. She was right not to. What Ginny did, made her the most horrible friend in the world and she doubted they would ever speak again. Ginny respected that. It was her fault. She was the one that had seen him hurt and took pity on him. So focused on the fact that he had lost his memory and she didn't want him to remember all the evil he had done, that she hadn't even questioned if what he was saying was the truth.

He had played her very well, and she was still trying to understand what he had taken from her this time.

There was always something and now it wasn't different.

Her memories were quite fuzzy on what had happened before Harry and Hermione found her passed out on the couch. Her head hurt when she tried to remember, so she usually let it be even so many months after it happened.

She was not trying to dismiss what had happened after he kicked Hermione out of their house. It was not that she couldn't quite recall. It was after. There was a conversation, she was sure of it, something important, but she couldn't remember what.

"Ginny?" Molly called from behind the closed door. "Breakfast is almost ready."

"I am coming!" She sat down and looked outside, there was the tree, where it all started. She felt a shiver go up her spine, raising the hairs on her nape. She really wished she could say it had all been a bad dream.

She went down, had breakfast, fed the chickens, helped her mom, read a book, helped her dad organise the shed where he had his Muggle weird stuff and the day went as it always went since she moved back with her parents.

Everyone thought she had a massive problem with her drinking, but once Tom disappeared from her life, and a couple of weeks to clean her system, it was like she had never drunk like that before. Her first one again had been when Harry invited her on a date. A glass of red wine with her pasta in a Muggle restaurant near his street.

They were dating again, she was planning on asking him to marry her this time around. She couldn't imagine her life without him in it.

Part of her didn't want, she didn't have actual peace of mind to marry him, but she wanted to move on with her life. She wanted to be happy and Harry was the love of her life.

In the end of that dinner, she had almost kissed away his soul, wanting him to erase Tom's lips from hers, his touch from her skin.

But, that day, another normal day in her life, it was night when they came, the Death Eaters.

Ginny got up from the floor, where she had been sitting in front of the fire reading a book. She knew he was out there and this was not some random act of violence.

She crossed the garden and waited behind the gate. Tom walked to her, he had been waiting some steps behind his line of defence. He walked through the protective barrier and opened the gate as she stepped back, wand on her hand pointing at him.

"I need your help." He looked the same. That weird deformation was completely gone by now, he looked perfect, beautiful and terrifying.

"I have helped enough." Ginny gave another step back and got in a defensive pose, she was ready to go all the way to the end.

Tom tilted his head to the side and looked at her for a moment. He took his hands from his pockets and methodically took out his gloves, looking down, with a deep breath, as if he was doing something he didn't want. "You promised." He showed his hand, involved in a strange golden aura, just like hers. A strip of light appeared between them, connecting their hands, lacing around their wrists.

An Unbreakable Vow.

"How many people are inside?" He asked, putting his gloves back on, the strange brightness gone.

"Just my parents…" Ginny shrieking when Tom closed the distance between them and grabbed her arm, dragging her back to the house. He pushed her in and grabbed her by the hair, making her groan in pain and she felt her scalp being pulled.

"Out!" He roared, giving her a shake and almost making her fall to her knees. "Or she is dead."

"Who are you?" Artur asked, standing in front of Molly.

"Who do you think?" Tom replied sarcastically, looking with disdain at them. They didn't recognise him from Ginny's birthday party. "OUT!"

Arthur and Molly rushed out and Tom pushed Ginny out as well. She stumbled and would have fallen if it wasn't for him grabbing her arm again.

"What do you want, Tom?" Her voice was shaking, and she was doing her best to hold her tears. She was so scared. He didn't reply, simply firmed his fingertips on her arm in a sign to have her shut up.

Her parents were quickly subdued by the Death Eaters and Tom continued to drag her away. He pointed her wand at her, that one of the Death Eaters had passed to him and then pulled her close to him.

Her face was up from the pressure of her wand's tip against her chin, and she barely noticed when his hand went from her arm to the small of her back and he pulled her close into an embrace.

"Ginevra," he whispered her name into her hear, "Voldemort still needs your help."

She gulped and parted her lips, but no sound came out.

"I need you to take me to Harry." Ginny started to cry, and he lowered the wand and put it away. He pulled her head to his chest. "Listen…" he said into her red hair, "if you take me anywhere else, I will make sure that your family will be hunt down as the blood traitors that they are." He caressed her hair and rested his chin on her hair as if his gestures of comfort could balance the terribleness of his words. "I die, they die; you break our vow and they die. You will not escape me."

"I-I ne-never promi-promised you a-anything…" She stammered, she forced her eyes shut, trying to remember.

"Oh my poor little Ginny…" He chuckled. "You have never been very bright." He pulled her head away from him to look at her eyes. "You were naïve and you drunk too much. I never lost my memory. That scar was just the potion I never took to finish the spell I did last time I returned. The promise came from some drops your friend apothecary sold me to keep you calm in your drinking haze. You would have promised me the moon if I had asked." He kissed her, his lips were warm against hers and she wanted to bite him, hurt him, but she couldn't help herself to do it. He didn't even refer to the small amounts of love potion he had given her. Not enough to make her falsely fall in love and make the Unbreakable Vow impossible, just enough for her to succumb to him.

She couldn't even understand why he had wanted to do it. Wasn't having her mind enough?

"It's all my fault…" was everything she could say.

"Yes, indeed it is." He replied, cruelly, she could feel the bones of his jaw moving against hers as he spoke into her lips. "You are finally fulfilling your destiny, of bringing Lord Voldemort back to power, and you will live to see it, I want to bring you along with me." He told her with irony.

"You once had this thought, were love brings more respect than fear. That gave me a lot to think about, I was just tolerating you to get that vow out and make you take me to Harry. But I listened, and I learned and that will be your job, making me look like a man with only the best interests of my people, a man that cares about his family."

"I-I…" Ginny tried to collect her thoughts, she wasn't quite understanding what he meant.

"Take me to Harry now." He ordered, but she didn't move. "Don't make me ask for help again, it's not good for your health."

Ginny closed her eyes as the numbness came back. She was between the sword and the wall.

She took them to Grimmauld Place, the street was quiet and empty at dinner time, everyone was having their meal, distracted with their lives, no one noticed them appear from thin air.

He stepped back but didn't let her go, his hand didn't leave her back.

Tom looked surprised around him.

"All this time…" He chuckled, and his eyes stopped on the buildings across the street, where number 16 should be. "Of course… Sirius got the house after Regulus, not Bella or Narcissa." He muttered to himself. He cursed the witches for their stupidity, for not ever thinking that their cousin could be hiding his nephew in the family home.

The two buildings moved to the side to Ginny's horror, 11 Grimmauld Place was supposed to be protected from him.

"H-how?" asked him, she needed to know.

"Walburga Black promised I would always be welcome at her house," Tom replied looking down at her with a smile, "I guess she is still lurking in those walls." He pulled her to the entry steps.

Tom opened the door easily and they crossed to the bright inside. Ginny could hear a radio on the back playing, since Harry still liked to have the background noise to keep him company.

Her wand was again in his hand and he was pointing it at her. They walked down the corridor and he stopped to peer inside the first room.

Empty.

"Ginny?" Harry's voice from the back of the house startled them both and Tom let Ginny go. "Is that you?" He asked.

Tom slipped into the empty room and left her standing in the middle of the corridor by herself, leaving her feeling naked and exposed in her spot.

Harry appeared walking down the corridor, his smile disappearing as he got close to her and noticed her disarrayed hair, the dry tears in her cheeks and the general feel of deep stress and fear that surrounded her. He closed the distance between them. "Ginny, are you ok?" He asked, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Wha-"

"Hello, Harry." Tom cut his last question and Harry turned around, startled, he looked like a fish out of the water, opening and closing his mouth as he stared in horror at Tom as he recognised him.

In a flash of green Harry was on the floor.

As Ginny hit the floor with Harry, pulling him into her arms in a petrified silence and rocking back and forth, Tom called Harry's wand to him. It came flying from the back of the house, from where Harry had come, and it landed in his hand with a flat sound.

The first thing he had learned on his return was that his wand had been destroyed, so killing Harry was not only a way of getting him out of the scene but also a way of getting his old wand's twin from him. He was tired of having spells getting out of control because he was not using the correct wand.

Tom was putting his trust in this wand, he hoped it would not fail him as his last one had.

Tom looked down at Ginny, cradling Harry in her arms, and rolled his eyes. He walked down the corridor and opened the curtains that hid his old friend. The witch's wrinkled suddenly relaxing as she recognises him.

"My lord…" Walburga Black bowed inside her frame. "Everything is yours… faithfully." She said with a small smile of delight.

Tom smiled back and turned to Ginny. He walked to her and grabbed her by the arm from the floor, and she let Harry go more easily then he thought she would.

"Let's go, Ginny…" He told her, putting his arm around her shoulders. Tom walked them outside and stopped on the sidewalk. He lifted his wand into the sky and muttered the spell that he shared with his Death Eaters, his fingers digging her arm and she looks up.

The skull eating the snake laughed at her.

The sky was full of them, everywhere.

**The End**


End file.
